


what if i told you...

by pastelwolfie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Betrayal, Implied Main Character Death, Implied Murder, Implied Revival, Insanity, OOC, Oneshot, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain GeorgeNotFound, drabble/prompt-ish?, drafted at like 2 am, i’d love to see someone flesh out this idea, oh yeah and, only for callahan tho, prison break - Freeform, probably i don’t watch half the people i’ve written about, traumatised children, unknown motives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:14:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29465589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelwolfie/pseuds/pastelwolfie
Summary: “what you’ve done is punishable by death, you know that right?”sam spoke with such authority, such confidence that it made his skin crawl with disgust, though he kept the emotion to himself, playing the back burner, letting the man himself handle it.“it’s only death if you can catch them, sam. i won’t let that happen- not since they’ve helped me so much.”OR dream has help from some unexpected sources, and shit goes down once he gets out.
Relationships: ... former :), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	what if i told you...

**Author's Note:**

> hi i don’t remember drafting this so i can only assume i came up with it at 2am lmfaoo oops
> 
> have fun tho sksks

alarms started blaring, lighting flashing in a dangerous red hue. his eyes darted across the walls, a sense of fulfilment and humour filling him from bottom to top. sound as they might, the alarm wouldn’t do shit.  
it was too late.  
they had won. 

letting the man clad in green take the lead, he and his surprise associates took up behind him, blue onzie- face creased with traces of concern and regret- taking up the rear. black undershirt and muted cyan-blue tone overshirt walked almost in-pace with neon green, a somewhat backstep pace. his own was slowed, methodical almost- as to not overtake the pair infront of him. his superior height would surely allow it, but he wanted the moment to hit. to sting.

rivers of molten rock flowed on either side of their hardened path, purple and almost black in its dark hue. the sound of confident steps echoing against obsidian walls, crumbled and chipped with uneven edges from where maxed out pickaxes had slammed. his tool still grasped in his hands, eyes wandered from the figures infront of him (both decked out in maxed armour, unsurprisingly), to the growing light of the end of their hand-crafted tunnel, lava pooling out and dribbling down the side of the prison like a bleeding wound. approaching the entrance to their escape route, eyes landed upon hardened lava, forming a sturdy enough platform for all of them, steaming and glowing with suppressing heat as the lava cooled on impact with the water, heating up from the flaming rock’s touch. he could feel the uncomfortable heat in his feet through his shoes, but the sight that met him once he jumped gracefully to the hardened rock pulled a grin on his monotone-shaded features. 

a small party: scared, angry, shocked.

in the forefront stood the warden himself- partially masked features revealing an unquenched anger and suppressed shock, through the parts of his face and body language he could see and read.   
beside him, burning with a wildfire of anger, stood the third to the broken trio- sapnap. features clear as day- he was vividly upset at the situation.  
confused and positioned slightly behind him, decked out in unfamiliar, more summer-friendly attire, was the man, the legend himself- technoblade, and the infamous philza. surprise etched their features, worry and hurt shining in creases of their faces.  
behind them, cowering in visible fear, stood two children. kids, shaking with the weight of a new war on their shoulders.   
a war he helped bring upon everyone. 

surprisingly enough to them, the thought made him grin- voice in his mind praising him for the chaos. his muscles relaxed, basking in the ferocity of the emotions his actions had helped evoked.

through the sound of water steaming, and lava bubbling behind him, he heard a voice- strong, masculine- professional?   
“george, callahan, ranboo- what you’ve done is punishable by death, you know that right?”  
sam spoke with such authority, such confidence that it made his skin crawl with disgust, though he kept the emotion to himself, playing the back burner, letting the man himself handle it.  
“it’s only death if you can catch them, sam. i won’t let that happen- not since they’ve helped me so much.”  
dream’s voice was almost equally as level, the only difference being the lightness of his tone and the airy amusement that filled it.  
“dream, i made a promise. i don’t intend to break it.”  
sapnap’s voice was cold, stark contrast to the heated rage painting his expression. the difference could have given him whiplash if he’d bothered to care, but he found himself enjoying the bickering more so than anything, grin spreading as dream quelled the opposition’s attempts at threatening them once again:  
“really? i don’t think you mean that, sapnap. do you really have it in you to kill your best friends- former or not? and a child? isn’t that.. hypocritical?”  
his additional laugh was wheezy, patronising. an ear instinctively flicked as he registered being called ‘a child’, though he wasn’t daft- he knew what he was, glad his youth could be used to taunt their opponents. with each fire-filled retort, watching the confidence drain from the others, across the water, his confidence inflated- joy dancing through him like a dance to a sickening song, a melody demanding death and preaching chaos. 

“ranboo,”  
the tone was cautious, familiar. it make his skin crawl- lofty amusement running through him as he registered the hope hiding within the voice.  
“yes, philza?” his tone was curt and unforgiving, forced innocence dripping from his words, he had every intention to help dream with t he rest of his plans, wether the pseudo-father figure liked it or not.  
“please, listen to us-“  
“i’m all ears, philza. phil? mr. minecraft?”  
his mind wandered from name to name, wondering aloud, carefully planning the delivery of his words to strike as hefty a blow he could manage. whispers of ‘go, do it. good.’ mingled in his brain, dream’s voice egging him on.  
things had been so much more fun when he just learnt to listen. to remember.  
“angel of death? dadza? what would you give, philza, for him to call you ‘dad’ again?”  
complete silence, bar george’s amused scoff.   
“what?”  
“what would you give? for them to call you dad again? or have you already forgot about your real sons in favour for ‘i have hundreds of voices in my head’ here, hmm?”  
the response was slow, processing the hints at a much slower pace than expected. age really did slow you down, didn’t it? ugh.

“them?”

ranboo knew what dream was planning, he helped put the pieces together, after all. it was so strikingly simple, and so amusingly obvious that the fact no one had figured it out yet was stupidly hilarious.

“reviving is a tough process. you were close, of course, but did you really put in your all? your everything?”  
dream lead, folding his arms, inconceivably relaxed about the whole situation. ranboo was not oblivious to the betrayed looks techno, phil, tommy and tubbo gave him- and ‘good for them’, he thought. how they hadn’t seen this coming was beyond him, ranboo was by no means subtle. the looks of horror were all he’d dreamed they were, so he revealed in being the cause.

“clearly not.” george dismissed, picking at his cuticles in a bored manner, his cover of lax and calmness impressive- but he could tell he was quivering slightly in excitement.  
he still don’t know how to read callahan’s expression, but it looked dull and blank.

“revival requires a sacrifice. not a stupid sheep, or a small rabbit. a real one.”  
the grave tone said it all, and a veil of fear landed on all their enemies as george, callahan, dream’s mask and himself let their eyes rest on the back of the group, all of their gazes turning to the small and trembling figure behind them.

“what was it you said last time, tubbs? it’s your time to go?”

**Author's Note:**

> mmm brainrot is so much fucking fun
> 
> also no  
> bad wolfie  
> you have 2 huge stories in the works, don’t do oneshots  
> no more oneshots  
> please we’re multitasking 3 oneshots and 2 huge stories calm down  
> stop drawing please and f o c u s  
> we have an issue please stay with one story and stick to it-
> 
> i argue with myself over this shit all the time lol  
> expect,, angsty oneshot of adopting all the kids,,, soon,,,, i can only contain it for so long


End file.
